


Tethered Wings

by TaergaLive



Series: Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [13]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaergaLive/pseuds/TaergaLive
Summary: "Gale points to her. 'You’re allowed to touch the Weave. Say it.''I…' she hesitates, but he continues to look at her expectantly. 'I’m...allowed to touch the Weave.''Atta girl,' he praises. And then he begins."While Sephrin gives magic another shot, Astarion and Glynren have a gentlemanly debate.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Wyll (Baldur's Gate)/Original male character (s)
Series: Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061618
Comments: 15
Kudos: 35





	Tethered Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Finally tagging the second ship since it finally comes to the foreground. I've been sprinkling hints of it in earlier parts, but I don't know how obvious they were. 
> 
> Also, I'm putting a trigger warning on this just in case. It's nothing severe, but there is a lot of negative self-talk in this one. Like I had to take a few breaks while writing it because it brought up some bad memories of my college days lol

“I want to try touching the weave again.”

Sitting by the fire, Gale continues stirring the leftover stew from the previous night. While the words interrupted the silence, he made no show of reacting to them. 

“Stew’s almost ready,” he says to Sephrin, who stands by him, arms taut by her side. “Not the most ideal breakfast choice, I know. But better than eating berries plucked from trees, am I right?”

Her face remains hard and yet apprehensive. It had taken a lot of courage for her to come out and say it. His reaction isn’t what she expected. “I-I…”

He smiles up at her and gestures to the nearby log. “Come on. Can’t be casting magic on an empty stomach. Believe me, it is a blunder I do not wish to relive.” 

As he returns his attention to the stew, Sephrin takes a furtive seat. Her eyes gravitate to the stew. Food is not high on her list of priorities, but she had noted how he hadn’t turned her down. Satisfied with the temperature, Gale fills two bowls, handing one to Sephrin. She lets it warm her hands as she waits for it to cool. Gale seems to not mind the heat, digging in with a healthy appetite. 

“So,” he says, pausing to swallow. “This about the cambion last night?” When her shoulders arch and her eyes droop to the bowl, he nods. “Ah, yes, I thought so. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But, I want to make sure you understand that even if you started studying magic now, even if you end up being outstanding and pick up on it with little effort, that does not mean you’re going to instantaneously become invulnerable to potential threats. I mean, hells, you and your brother had to resurrect me from the dead, and I’ve been doing this for years!” 

She tilts the bowl slightly, watching the contents shift. “I, I know. I just…” She bites down on her lip, trying to find her words in the stew itself. “That...monster came to me rather than anyone else, and I know why. Because out of all of us, I’m the weakest.” She tries to not think about how Astarion admitted that was the very same reason he sought her out for blood. “I don’t want to feel afraid anymore. Afraid of people. Afraid of the Weave. Afraid of…” 

Again, he nods. “Good, good. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t chasing rainbows. Now, if you really want to try it again, eat up.”

Gale watches as she idly scratches at the side of the bowl, still watching the liquid. There were more words to be found in there. He starts eating again, keeping an eye on her, waiting. After he’s eaten a few more spoonfuls, she opens her mouth to speak. Nothing comes out at first, but then she finds her voice, tiny as it is. “You’ve never...you’ve never really kept a student, have you?”

Sephrin knows the answer to this already. She overheard him and her brother discussing it, how Gale would get fed up with their incompetence. And Gale knows she knows this. She mentioned it when he first brought up the idea of Sephrin continuing her studies. So he knows there’s a message in her question. 

“That is true,” he answers, finishing off his bowl and placing it aside. “I’ve had a few in my time, and while they were not terrible, I...I had my own aspirations to follow. I didn’t want to be ladened with novices while I was working to accomplish those goals.” He smiles ruefully. “And one or two were pretty awful.” 

Pursing her lips, Sephrin nods. He waits a moment before standing up. “But, given the circumstances we have come to find ourselves in…” When he trails off, Sephrin finally looks up at him, puzzled. He smiles. “It couldn’t hurt to teach you a thing or two.”

Once the words sink in, a little smile sneaks onto Sephrin’s face, making her look back down as she tries to snuff it out. She should say something, but she’s afraid if she does, it will make the moment disappear. Instead, Gale chuckles and nudges her before starting away. “Now, will you finally eat? The sooner you finish, the sooner we can get started.

“Oh,” he pauses, turning back to her. “And if you could, please affirm to Astarion that this arrangement is strictly platonic. If looks could kill, he’d have struck me dead a few times over by now.”

Blushing, she flinches, looking back up at him. “Wh-what?”

“You’re a little too young for my tastes,” he explains with a teasing gesture. “No offense, of course.”

“N-No, I, that’s not what...I don’t want…” She’s so flustered that she almost spills her stew. 

Gale chuckles. “Relax. I’m only teasing you. Though I am serious. I don’t see you in that way. And I’d appreciate it if you made that clear to Astarion. He’s fiercely...territorial over you.”

Sephrin frowns. Territorial. The word choice says all she needs to hear to know Gale’s opinion on their relationship. But she thinks back to when Gale first had her touch the Weave. Astarion seemed to have been watching them, and he did seem hostile. She hadn’t realized why, though. Was he really upset that she had been with Gale? Had he thought Gale was trying to flirt with her. Did he think  _ she  _ was trying to flirt with Gale? Such thoughts had never even occurred to her. Even now, the thought completely baffles her. 

But what bothers her most is that Astarion feels the need to be territorial. She has told Astarion that she trusts him. But she never thought to ask if Astarion trusts her. 

Gale doesn’t give her a chance to answer. When she looks back up at him, he simply gestures to the bowl before walking away. Getting the hint, she sighs and starts eating. 

_______________________________

Crack! 

As Glynren raises the ax again, a hand rests on his shoulder. “I think we’ve got plenty of firewood, Glyn.”

Lowering the ax, Glynren glances over at the pile of wood he’s been cutting. He doesn’t think twenty pieces is enough, but then again, he didn’t start cutting wood because he thought they needed it. Sighing, he glances at Wyll. “Well, I can’t chop that devil’s head off right now, so I figured this was a good substitute.”

With a reassuring jostle, Wyll gives him a rueful smile. “I know. I think we’re all still on edge from last night. Nothing like a cambion dangling hope on a string to get your blood hot.” He pauses, turning somewhat serious. “Listen, Glyn, I’m sorry about last night. I feel as though I got a little testy with you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Glynren glances down. “No, I...I understand. At the time I didn’t, but later, well...remembered what you told me.” Wyll always seems so merry and at ease. It makes it easy to forget about their conversation several nights ago, about how Wyll made a deal with a devil and now regrets it every day.

As if he could read Glynren’s mind, Wyll nods. “When you said you wouldn’t give in to the cambion’s tricks...I took that personally, more than I should have. Because I was once like you. I once believed I would never listen to the silver tongue of a demon offering me what I wanted most. But then, I did. I don’t want to see the same happen to you. You’re young. You’ve still got a long life ahead of you.”

Laughing, it’s Glynren’s turn to nudge Wyll. “I’m older than you, you twit.” 

The laugh is infectious. “Maybe by human standard, yes. But aren’t you still practically a child to other elves?”

Though he rolls his eyes, Glynren is still good-natured. “I’m an adult, dammit. I’m over a hundred, so…” He sticks his tongue out. 

Wyll holds his hands up in mock defense. “Forgive me, old man.” His smile remains but he grows serious. “But I meant what I said. You still have a long life ahead of you. I don’t want to see you throw it away to some cambion.”

“That means a lot to me,” Glynren replies quietly. He cannot help but watch the hand that lingers on his shoulder. It’s warm. Maybe that’s why Glynren’s face feels warm too. 

His staring makes Wyll pull away gently. “I’ll, uh, start bringing some of this wood to the fire.” Before Glynren could reply, Wyll hoists up a few logs and starts back for camp. 

Sighing, Glynren picks the ax up, readying another log to chop. Another voice, though, interrupts him. “I thought he’d  _ never _ leave.”

This time, Glynren brings the ax down upon the log at full force. Crack! He doesn't even spare a glance as he readies the next one. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

Rounding a tree, Astarion gives Glynren his all too pleasant simper. “Well, I would, but your sister is preoccupied at the moment. Fiddling with magic, if I’m not mistaken.”

That gets Glynren’s attention. “Really? So, she’s continuing her studies?”

Astarion shrugs. “How should I know?  _ I’m _ not her keeper.” 

Huffing, Glynren turns to him. “Might as well be. She spends most of the day with you. Seems to talk to you the most, too.”

The vampire’s eyes seem to glimmer as he pretends to be shocked. “Yes, I’ve noticed. I’ve also noticed how much you  _ despise _ it. It must be rather painful watching your baby sister finally sprout her wings.” 

Glynren narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

Astarion laughs. “Oh, you’re playing coy! You know, I’ve noticed that as well, the similarities between you and Sephrin. I hardly saw them before, but each day, a new trait or facial expression comes to light. I have to say, though, your sister is much better at being naive, probably because she truly retains her innocence.”

“Either answer my question or leave me alone,” Glynren scowls. 

Clicking his tongue, Astarion examines his fingernails. “Temper, temper. All I meant is that you’re losing your grip on the tether and it  _ terrifies  _ you.” 

“Wha-”

“While you’ve been playing the heroic big brother, Sephrin’s been stuck playing the demure, shrinking violet. And it’s all your doing! I have to admit, I am rather impressed. It’s not easy to manipulate others and still look like the good guy.” 

Gritting his teeth, Glynren grips the ax tightly. “The only manipulator in this group is you!”

Astarion looks up from his hands, a dangerous smirk on his lips. “ _ I’m _ not the one holding Sephrin back.  _ I’m _ not the one telling her to run away from every fight she encounters.”

“I’m trying to prote-”

“ _ I’m  _ not the one afraid she’ll be better than I am.”

For a moment, Glynren can’t breathe. He feels like he’s been punched in the gut. It’s such an absurd notion, him being jealous of his sister. Him being afraid she’ll be better than him. Why would he ever think that she’d be better? No, why would he even be  _ afraid _ of that?

He licks his lips, trying to form his thoughts quickly. After all, Astarion is staring at him like the cat that got the cream. “I’m not...I’m not afraid of her being better than me.”

“Because she’ll never have the chance to?” Astarion retorts with a cock of his brow. 

“No!” Glynren scowls. “What are you...why do you even think…?”

“Why else do you baby her?” Astarion purrs, stepping closer. Even though he’s still armed with the ax, Glynren feels the need to take a step back. “You treat her like a child. You advocate for her though she is perfectly capable of speaking for herself. But the very instant she opens her mouth, you shut her down. Really, I must admit, I’m rather impressed by your methods. To everyone else, you appear to be the kindhearted big brother protecting his sister from the horrors of the world when, in reality, all you’re doing is keeping her weak and afraid so she’ll always run to her big brother for help. 

“Now all I need to figure out is the why. Why do you want to hold your sister back? As I said, it could be because you’re afraid she’ll be better than you. And you’ll be left in the dust.” 

Growling, Glynren finds the vehemence to step toward him. “Shut up! It’s nothing like that. You’re talking out your ass.” 

Not even flinching, Astarion shrugs. “You  _ dream _ to be the hero, don’t you? Like our good friend, Wyll. In fact,  _ you _ want to save  _ Wyll _ from whatever his little demon situation is, don’t you?” His eyes gleam as he smiles. “Yes, that’s it. That’s another reason you hold your sister back. You’re jealous of her.”

Glynren is having trouble keeping up with Astarion’s argument. “Jealous of what?” It sounds a bit harsh when he says it, but there honestly isn’t anything to be jealous of. 

But according to Astarion’s smirk, there is. He leans in closer. “That she got laid before you did.” 

Whack! Before he knows what he’s doing, Glynren swings the ax at him. He doesn’t aim with the edge, though. He seems to have enough sense to try to hit Astarion with the broad side of the ax. It doesn’t matter. Astarion anticipated such a reaction and was able to grab hold of the handle, though the force makes him stumble. The two of them hold onto the ax, eyeing each other, Astarion with an amused grin, and Glynren with confused fury. 

“Did I hit below the belt?” Astarion chitters. When Glynren doesn’t answer except for scowling, Astarion pushes, literally and figuratively. He pushes him back against the tree. “As I mentioned earlier, you and your sister are much more alike than I originally realized. You get the same little blush on your cheeks when you’re embarrassed, that same dreamy look when you’re gazing at the one you admire. You’re jealous because she’s got her man while you’re still pining away like a little schoolboy.” 

Glynren pushes forward but Astarion shoves him back. Thousands of thoughts race through Glynren’s mind. How much he wants to wipe that cocky grin off Astarion’s face. How stupid and inane this argument is. How pissed off he is that Astarion would bring up his sister’s sex life  _ again _ . But the main thought that keeps smacking his head with a hammer is how in the world did Astarion  _ know _ ? How did he know what he thought about Wyll? 

It’s not that Astarion is completely right. Yes, Glynren will admit that he has had his eyes on Wyll for some time. No, it hasn’t gotten him anywhere. But certainly no, he was  _ not _ jealous that his sister had sex with Astarion before he could even think about making a move on Wyll. No, that was absurd. That was disgusting. That was...actually something he hadn’t considered. 

Seeing the recognition in his eyes, Astarion smiles. “You know, she admitted to me I wasn’t her first. You’ve at least fucked before, haven’t you, Glyn?”

Again, Glynren pushes forward, this time managing to get enough momentum to shove Astarion off him. But he has to let go of the ax, lest he ends up pinned against the tree again. “If you really must know, yes, I’ve had sex before.”

“How scandalous!” Astarion chuckles, but he tosses the ax aside so neither of them has it. 

“Woah,” Glynren freezes upon hearing the voice. “What did I just walk into?”

Wyll cocks a brow at both of them as he pauses at the woodpile. Astarion flashes his brows at Glyren as the younger elf most certainly blushes. The vampire then turns to answer the question. “Just having a gentlemanly chat.”

“About sex?” Wyll questions, though he looks somewhat amused. He looks to Glynren for confirmation.

Glynren wishes the ground would just swallow him up. Or that the tadpole would just take over his brain. Defeated, he nods, but not before glaring at Astarion. “Yes, about sex.” 

He frowns in thought at first, but then Wyll nods. “Glad you two found something to bond over.” With that, he takes up more of the wood and starts back for camp yet again. 

Rubbing his temples, Glynren grimaces. “I hate you. So much.” 

With a flourish, Astarion chuckles. “I’m glad we had this chat.” 

________________________

“Just like last time,” Gale starts, standing arm’s length from Sephrin. “I will be your conduit to the Weave, making it easier for you to connect with it. And, just like last time, that means you and I will be connected to one another.”

Shifting, Sephrin looks away. She’s not sure she likes the sound of that. But she nods. 

Gale nods as well. “Whatever thoughts run through your head, I’ll be able to hear them. Likewise, you’ll hear my thoughts as well. It’s a little unsettling, I’ll admit. But for our purposes, it will work wonders. We need to help you conquer your fear of the Weave. Though it seems to be less of a fear and more of an anxiety. Now, take a deep breath. You’re already getting skittish.” 

Indeed, Sephrin’s fingernails are digging into the palms of her hands. Taking the breath, she flexes her fingers, trying to keep herself calm. “Okay, I...I’m ready.”

He points to her. “You’re allowed to touch the Weave. Say it.”

“I…” she hesitates, but he continues to look at her expectantly. “I’m...allowed to touch the Weave.”

“Atta girl,” he praises. And then he begins.    


The two of them go through the same motions as last time, connecting to the Weave. Sephrin tries to quell her apprehension, but as the connection gets stronger, the harder it is for her to not worry. Once the connection is made, the initial euphoria hits. Such an ineffable sensation, like a gentle caress in her mind. Sephrin notices not all she’s feeling are her own emotions. Some of Gale’s thoughts are leaking into her, though they are abstract feelings of joy, wonder, and longing. The last one hits her hard, leaving a pit in her stomach. 

Soon, though, the initial good feelings start to crack, and a trickle of doubt drips in.  _ What do you think you’re doing? You shouldn’t be doing this. _ A little whimper escapes her before she can stop it. 

“Breathe,” Gale gently reminds her. “Tell me, why do you feel like you shouldn’t be doing this?”

_ You shouldn’t be doing this _ her mind echoes Gale. In fact, it starts off in Gale’s voice but quickly changes to her own. “I…”  _ Oh hush, shut it, he doesn’t want to hear it he doesn’t actually care _ .

“Harsh,” Gale nods, “But not unexpected. Did anyone ever tell you that you shouldn’t be doing magic? Anyone? A friend? A family member? Glyn?”

She shakes her head.  _ They should.  _

“So it’s just you who thinks it.” He studies her. “Why? Why do you think you’re not allowed?”

_ Not allowed not allowed _ It echoes in her head.  _ Don’t deserve it _

“Why not?”

Sephrin shakes her head again. “I just...I haven’t done anything to…”  _ earn earn _

Gale studies her more. “You feel like you need to earn the right to use it.” 

_ Earn the right earn earn you don’t deserve it stop touching it filthy filthy  _

“Why filthy?” Gale tries to keep up with the thoughts asking about them as soon as they reach his mind. It’s unnerving, though, having her thoughts interrupt his own.

_ Filthy filthy get your grubby hands off of it  _ “I...I’m not...I shouldn’t…”  _ bad bad so bad you’re bad that’s why stop it  _

“Why are you bad?”

_ Bad bad  _ “I’m…”  _ bad bad  _ “I don’t know. I don’t know. I just am. I’m awful. I’m terrible. I’m a despicable creature and I’m not allowed to, to…”  _ Not allowed to not allowed you don’t belong here shoo shoo  _

Closing his eyes, Gale has to take a breath and remind himself the thoughts aren’t his. “What do you mean you don’t belong here? Why wouldn’t you belong here? And where exactly is  _ here _ ?”

_ Here here you don’t belong here you’re not real _ “I’m not…”  _ real you’re not like them you’re not like other people so stop pretending filthy slut you’re not allowed to do that _

“You’re very real, Sephrin,” Gale tries to push through her thoughts. They’re very jumbled and mixed with images now, some of the images he wished he didn’t see. “You’re just as much of a person as any of us.” 

_ He’s lying to you he’s just trying to make you feel better  _ **_well of course he’s trying to make you feel better you’re being very mean to yourself_ **

Gale furrows a brow as he hears a new voice in her thoughts. It sounds familiar but within the cacophony of thoughts, it’s hard to focus on it. Instead, he goes with it. “That’s right. You’re being very hard on yourself. I mean what I say, Sephrin. You are  _ real _ , whatever that means to you.”

_ Liar liar you can’t trust him you shouldn’t trust him you don’t trust any of them they all just in it for themselves  _ **_aren’t most people just “in it” for themselves?_ ** _ Shut up  _ **_think about it: why would he be wasting his time talking you through this if he didn’t at least somewhat care?_ **

“We’re all in the mess together,” Gale adds to the second voice’s argument. “Even if you don’t trust me completely, you can trust that I want to help you if only to help our current situation.”

**_Don’t have an argument against that, do you?_ ** _ Shut up  _ **_Oh please is that all you’ve got?_ ** _ Don’t listen to him he’s just using you like the easy whore you are  _ **_Sweetheart, if you think you’re a whore, then I’m a saint._ **

It’s then he recognizes the other voice. Of course. The voice is coming from Sephrin, but it’s  _ his _ voice, no doubt about it, almost sounding as if the elf were actually there. While he wishes she could fight back with her own voice, borrowing another’s will have to do for now. “Listen, Sephrin, are other people whores for having sex?”

_ No  _ **_No_ **

“Are other people bad for touching the Weave?” 

_ No  _ **_No_ **

“Then  _ you _ are allowed to do those things.”

_ No  _ **_YES_ ** _ no, you’re not  _ **_YES you ARE._ **

It’s becoming too much for Gale to handle. Too many voices swimming in his head. Gently, he grips Sephrin’s shoulders and makes her look at him. “Yes, you are. Say it. Say you’re allowed to do things.” 

_ No you’re no  _ **_oh can it you’re outnumbered_ ** “I...I’m…”  **_go ahead, dear, say it. Say it. You’re allowed to do things._ ** “I’m...I’m allowed to do things.”  **_There it is_ ** _ no you’re “ _ I’m allowed to do things.”

“Good,” Gale lightly shakes her. “You are real.”

“I am real.”

“You’re allowed to do what other people are allowed to do.”

“I’m, I’m allowed to do what other people are allowed to do.”  **_good girl_ **

“You  _ deserve  _ to touch the weave.”

“I…”  **_deserve_ ** “I deserve to touch the Weave.”

He holds onto her for a little while longer, studying her face. There’s still a little background noise in her head, but the voice has disappeared. Those oppressive sensations of doubt and disgust have faded, replaced with hope, anticipation, and a little bit of pride. He lets her wallow in it a little longer. 

“What you’re feeling right now,  _ that’s  _ how you should feel when you touch your magic. Don’t let that voice inside you boss you around.  _ You _ are in control of your thoughts and actions. Remember that. Remember that  _ you _ can do whatever you aspire to do. And you are real.” While he’s still not exactly sure what she means by the phrase, he has an idea from putting the pieces together. She does not see herself on the same “level” as others. Other people can do these things, but she cannot. She is “not allowed” according to herself. What baffles him is  _ why _ she thinks this. It doesn’t seem like anyone has ever made her feel this way before. It’s completed fabricated. 

He gives her one more reassuring shake before letting go. “Now, I’m going to sever the connection between the two of us. You might lose your grip on the Weave, but I want you to try to hold onto it. Concentrate. Really focus on the magic around you. Focus on nothing else but the Weave.”

When she nods, he waits a few moments before cutting the tie. Gale practically sighs in relief, glad to have only his own thoughts back in his head. Sephrin stumbles a bit, almost as if the connection had literally been holding her up. The Weave flickers, like it almost slipped through her fingers. But she manages to hold onto some of it. As it courses through her, she breaks out into a little smile. Gale can’t help but smile as well. He’s proud, partially of Sephrin and partially of himself. Hey, he gets some credit here too! 

After letting her have some time to adjust, Gale runs her through a simple energy channeling exercise. It takes a few tries for Sephrin to get it, and a few more tries for her to do it consistently. Once she’s done it three times in a row, he tells her it’s enough for now. 

At first, she didn’t think much of the practice, but Gale has to catch her when she sways. “Easy now,” he chuckles, helping her to sit down. “That was a lot for your first try. Give yourself a moment.” 

Sephrin nods, closing her eyes to stop the world from spinning. Just like when Astarion feeds from her. “Thank you,” she murmurs. “For, for…”

Crouching down, Gale smiles. “Of course. And hey, that wasn’t all me. Take credit when credit is due.” When she looks at him, he points at her. “ _ You _ fought through those thoughts, and  _ you _ managed that spell.” 

A little smile. “Not alone.”

“No,” he concedes, growing pensive. He recalls what he heard, what he felt while they were entangled in the Weave. Part of him doesn’t want to say anything, but he continues anyway. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he? Astarion, I mean.” 

Surprisingly, there’s no little blush as she looks down at her lap. “He does, yes.” 

“Why? I don’t ask to be judgmental or meddlesome. But I’m curious. You seem to me a very sweet, kindhearted individual. And Astarion is…” He lets her fill in the rest of his assessment. 

With a doleful smile, she glances up at him and shrugs. “People aren’t always what they seem.”

“Yes, but,” he shifts forward, carrying a didactic energy about him as if they were discussing a theory. “You’ve seen the way Astarion treats others. Me, your brother even. He has no sympathy for other people, no tact or sense to keep his opinions to himself. The only person he cares for is himself.” 

“He cares about me,” she replies quietly. The look Gale gives her lets her know what he thinks about that. But Sephrin isn’t lying to herself. She  _ believes _ it. 

Gale looks like he’s going to argue the point, but instead, he holds up his hands and shrugs. “Be that as it may, does that not bother you? To be the  _ only _ other person, the only other  _ thing _ he cares about?”

When she purses her lips, he knows he’s gone too far. After being in her mind, reading her expressions has suddenly become easier. He can almost hear what’s going through her head, how she’s terrible for adoring such a horrible person, probably thinking that  _ she’s _ worse than Astarion for ignoring his flaws. He decides to use a different approach. “Why do you like him?”

She sighs. “I don’t know. I just…” She’s not about to tell him how Astarion is the first person she’s ever found attractive. Sephrin  _ refuses _ . After having someone else in her head, she’d like to keep some things private. “I know he’s not...the nicest person in the world. But, for whatever stupid reason, I feel safe when I’m with him. I feel...happy.”

Though he wants to argue with her, a strange glimmer of familiarity dances in his eyes. The corner of his lips twitches as he nods. “As much as I would rather not, I understand what you mean. We are, unfortunately, unable to dictate who we fall in love with.” There’s a pause. “Or even who we fall out of love with.” 

Sephrin notices Gale’s expression. It reminds her of what she felt when they were connected. That remorseful longing of another. There’s a story there, she can tell, but she can also tell it’s a story she’s not going to hear, not today. Maybe not ever. After all, she is nobody to him. Why would he open up to her? Because he’s teaching her some magic? 

Noting the silence, Gale pats his knees before standing back up. “Well, then, if you’re feeling better, we should return to camp.” 

Although she still feels a twinge of shame, a bit of that unworthiness from before, Sephrin notices she walks with her head held a little higher, and with a proud little smile when her eyes meet Astarion’s. 


End file.
